COLACOAST ON THE WEST COAST/PEPPABOY TRILL McCOY'S HOMECOMING, DAY 2

Day 2:

After a well needed nap, I wake up at 7:30am to call the rental car place, so they can come get their car. The owner called me that morning with all these excuses, trying to swindle me out of my money. I guess he didnt know that I had a college education, plus being from the streets, I deal with game all day everyday. So, I peeped game, and I knew I would have to force the issue with this company to get justice.  Anyway, I had gotten a reservation at Enterprise Rental for 3:00pm.

Pico and I ate oatmeal pancakes for breakfast.  I cut my hair, the famous Waves On Da Top, Skins On Da Bottom, bald fade (pompadore).  While waiting on the rental people to come take care of the car, We brainstormed on more music projects, chopped up game about how to capitalize on the international market, etc.  Pico is featured on Spain's biggest artist, Paloma San Basilio's new project. He raps in spanish on a remake of one of her oldies, "Beso a Beso." When the rental people get there its almost 1:00pm, so they have wasted alot of my day. Two mid-eastern guys pull up. We go outside with the camera rolling. One guy says, "What is this, CNN?" lol... We had to let em know, yall wont be getting away with this.  So, I cranked the car and it didnt do anything. They tried to imply that I left the lights on, I left the radio on, lol... What kind of car radio keeps playing after the key is taken out? lol. These dudes were unbelievable, some con artists. They brought a battery charger, so we were able to jump the car off.  I told them to leave the charger with me in case it died again, and I would bring the piece of junk to them shortly.  The owner and I talked, and we agreed that he would charge me one day, and refund the rest of my money. They really should have refunded all of my money! So, Pico and I get ready, we smash to Enterprise, pick up another whip, swang around the corner and switch cars so I can take the one back to Econo Rental.  We get there, Jesse, the manager is not there. We talk to his assistant the night guy (was understanding). Long story short, I had to offer them a free trip to court to get my money refunded. They tried to charge me a percentage of the other days. We will be putting this company on blast, and reporting them to the authorities...

So we hop in our new rental, and head to my Godparents in Lemon Grove, whom I hadnt seen since I was five.  We huged and laguhed, listened to music, got a tour of the house, and I gave them a preview of my show set...By now, Its 7:00 pm, and we got places to go... So I checked out with them, and we shoot to El Cajon to pick up Seven and get something to eat...Now we are all in, passports in hand, headed south of the border to Ensenada.

The drive down was kool, but interesting. When you get to Tijuana, its like being in a Nascar race, and you better be able to read and speak Spanish. You dont want to get caught down here at night. America has not seen ghettos like this.  Luckily both Pico and I, Hablo Espanol muy bien.  On the way to Ensenada, the ride was an exhilarating adventure.  With mountains on my left, and the Pacific Ocean on my right, I drive south making it through 3 Federali checkpoints, dealing with Mexican soldiers sizing me up while holding M-16 machine guns like, "What are you doing in my country?"  Oh, we just came to kick it! lol... We get into town and swang a few corners. This place is live! It reminded me of New Orleans, Bourbon St, but more spread out. The stop lights and stop signs are different, so you have to be carful, but very agressive. The policia are everywhere, so you dont want to slip either. We ride by clubs like Papas and Beer, and several brothels, bars, and bodegas.  We park and hit the turf... Pico took us to Hussong's, the oldest Mexican Cantina known. Hussongs Cantina in the tourist zone is Baja's oldest bar still in use, established in 1892 by a German named Johan Hussong, it was first used as a stage coach stop and is now a historic landmark. It’s also the place where the Margarita was invented back in October, 1941 by bartender Don Carlos Orozco. 

Read more: http://www.virtualtourist.com/travel/North_America/Mexico/Estado_de...

Once inside, the atmosphere was jumpin. A live band played authentic Salsa while people danced. It was shoulder to shoulder packed. It was more of a local hangout rather than a tourist spot, so we stuck out like a sore thumb.  However, the people were friendly, and the drinks were hella cheap. We had dollars, not pesos, so we were ballin, lol. How about a triple Remy VSOP, and 4 Dos Equis for 12 bucks. I chopped it up with this ol timer at the bar who was ordering this top shelf tequila that would make Patron taste like BS.  Im eatin Peanuts and throwin the shells on the ground. Im salsad out, snappin pictures and just vibing with the people. 

We finally leave and go walk the streets while I smoke down a fine Don Pepin. We stop at a bodega and buy some exclusive tequilla for Ricky. He is a collector. The store clerck let us use his cell phone to call Don Freddie, Pico's Papa, so he could come get us to guide us to the hacienda up in the mountains.  We definitely need a guide, there are no street signs through these slums, and we aint from round here... Don Freddie first took us to this taco shop to get something to eat. I had a few tacos (not like american tacos) and I try a Mexican Coke for the first time. I usually dont drink soda, but they have a different formula that they make their Cokes with, with real sugar. It was good. As we get to the hacienda, I look down the mountain at all the lights like Wow! I literally felt on top of the world, the view was breathtaking. Don Freddies pad is surrounded by slums, graffiti, gangs, and he has Wifi. Like living at the Reitz Carlton in the middle of the projects... We are so, blessed. We each have our own rooms, got our gameplan together to hit the turf early enough to get across the border in time. Plus, I gotta do some shopping before we go. The shops dont open till 10:00am. One more thing before we retire. So, we sit at the table to soak up this eventful day, shoot the shit with Don Freddie, and toast to success before we go to bed. Of course, some tequilla you cant buy... Experience priceless...